


Prisoner

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, Warning: Disturbing Mental Images, Warning: Torture, Warning: violence, warning: non-con, warning: read at your own risk, warning: triggery content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Captured, Iris gets to endure Vortex’s special brand of ‘fun’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** Mash Up of Continuities  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Vortex/Iris(oc)  
>  **Warnings:** Abduction, Torture, Sadism, Sticky, Violence, Dark  
>  **Notes:** Thank you to JailbotLovesYou of Tumblr, who commissioned this! On a more personal note, this was definitely more of a challenge. I was actually a bit nervous going in to write someone else’s original character, but I’m honestly pleased with how this came out. I really hope that if you give it a shot (hey I mean those warnings, so I know this won’t be for everyone) that it’s a worthy read.  <3

It had been a long war, and Iris had been trained to obey orders instantly. It often meant the difference between life and death, or at the very least the difference between an easily healed injury and grave, expensive, difficult to repair damage. And not just to one’s self, but to all the others taking part in the mission as well.

So when Prowl’s voice snapped the order to take cover, Iris broke off firing at the seekers overhead and dove for the ground behind a large boulder. She had hoped it would be enough, but the force of the explosion slammed the heavy rock against her. Iris’ gyros reeled as she fought to remain conscious, but the black still closed in.

~ | ~

Regaining consciousness was like trying to swim upward through sludge with weights tied to Iris’ ankles. It didn’t help that her processors were against her, constantly distracting her with faint, flickering memories and fantastical dream images. One moment she was stepping off the shuttle, taking her first taste of the heavy, oxygen-rich air of Earth, then the next she was floating through the brilliant colors of a nebula.

Back to basic training. The seat was hard and uncomfortable, but really, when had anything actually been comfortable? That was before her time, she was sure, and such thoughts were just a distraction from the drill sergeant barking out instructions as Iris and the other recruits put their blasters back together piece by piece.

She could do it in the dark now, confident and calm, sure fingers moving over the pieces. In no time at all she had the blaster rebuilt. It whined as the new charge pack warmed up, then went quiet, ready for use.

Iris fired up at the seekers, cursing as she missed, but then they were too high to hit anyway. Her orders, and those of the other reinforcements that were sent to Earth only a single lunar cycle before, were to just fire, keep the aerial Decepticons too high to engage the ground forces effectively while the Autobots more familiar with the tactics and madness that was Megatron in combat dealt with that mess. Prowl’s voice rang over the commline, and Iris dove, but she already knew what was going to happen. Slag that! One bash to the helm was enough.

Iris flinched, her whole body lurching as she tried to escape the blast, only for confusion to set in.

Well, now. This was not good. Iris had never been captured before, in fact, the mechs that that happened to were rarely ever seen again. Everyone knew that, though friends and compatriots _wanted_ to come, cannons blazing Pit-fire and damnation, once an Autobot on Cybertron entered Shockwave’s custody, they were never seen or heard from again. Early on, according to the stories, Ultra Magnus had tried to rescue those taken, but Shockwave’s fortress was difficult to get into. Once in, it was a maze of security measures and traps, and more died and were captured trying to retrieve that one mech than ever made it back out.

It was acknowledged as cold, but the good of the many, as they said, outweighed the life of just one.

Iris cycled her vents, trying to remain calm. Some had escaped. It was rare, but it happened, and it was also her number one order now.

Resist and escape.

Unfortunately, Iris had plenty of time to imagine the worst, though it did give her time to inspect her surroundings and assess the situation. She was bound securely at wrist and ankle to a table, arms stretched over her helm, which left her hanging since it was nearly upright. The air was uncomfortably moist, but then that was Earth. There was also the scent of rust, though it wasn’t strong. The room was dim and mostly in shadow, but a little light did come in from cracks, and after her optics adjusted, she could make out where tiny windows had been covered, and what looked like a Cybertronian-sized door. The ceiling was high overhead, and the way the sounds echoed when she called out spoke of a lot of empty space.

Where the slag was she? And just what was going on that her captors hadn’t come to question her yet?

It wasn’t for a few more hours, the dim light fading to complete darkness, before any sound from beyond the walls reached Iris’ audials. She strained to hear. Whoever it was out there, he was large and confident, and not trying to hide his presence. In fact, the tread was heavy, purposeful as he drew nearer. He wanted Iris to know he was coming and fear it.

Primus, but she hoped it wasn’t Megatron. Someone else she might be able to talk around, or work her way out, but he was huge, impatient and downright scary.

The relief washed through Iris as the door opened and a mech who was decidedly not Megatron entered. He was large, but not so huge, and what little backlighting there was showed her he was a rotary in his alt mode.

“Good evening, little one,” a rich, smooth voice said, and suddenly a bright spot light blazed down on Iris.

She could see nothing beyond the circle of light, and her vents caught a little as the mech materialized before her. Iris watched him, optics locked on the red visor, jaw tight. It wasn’t Megatron, but he was still a Decepticon, and it would be stupid to expect any sort of compassion.

The mech tsked, helm shaking in a mimicry of disappointment as Iris stayed silent. “And here I was expecting better manners from an Autobot.” He stopped right in front of Iris, giving her a slow once-over that made her plating clamp down even tighter. “Hm. You really are short. Can’t believe I forgot how little you are.”

One hand shot up, palm slapping against the surface of the slab close enough to Iris’ arm that she could sense the fuzz of the Decepticon’s energy field. She flinched to the side before she could stop herself, then tried to sink back as he leaned in, masked face far too close to her own. The visor burned into her optics, and she wished she could see through it. It would make her attempts at glaring back defiantly a little more convincing.

Then suddenly he backed off, pacing away. “Where are _my_ manners?” His fingers splayed over his chest plating, shoulders squaring. “We haven’t been properly introduced, and you little ‘Bots are probably taught not to talk to strangers, aren’t you?”

Stepping in close again, and sticking out his hand, he said, “I’m Vortex.” He stared at Iris, then down at his hand, then back up at Iris.

 _He’s insane,_ she thought.

“Well, see, now you _are_ just being rude.” Vortex’s hand dropped away. “You’re new to Earth though, so you probably haven’t heard of shaking hands to greet someone yet.”

Definitely insane, Iris decided. Like she would have ever considered clasping wrists with a Decepticon anyway.

And he was back to just staring at her too. Iris did her best not to fidget, and kept her mouth firmly closed.

“You don’t actually know who I am, do you?” Vortex’s helm tipped to the side for a moment, then he shrugged, one shoulder lifting and dropping.

There was another pause, and Vortex let it drag out for a few minutes before heaving a dramatized sigh. “Are you really just going to hang there and stare at me?” He moved close, grasping Iris’ chin and forcing it upward. The fingers from his other hand moved over her throat, and she felt the tingle of a scan. “Vocalizer should be working.” He brought her chin back down, still gripping along her jaw line. “Let’s try this a new way,” he said, voice shifting to a menacing purr. “Say your name.”

Iris stared back, unwilling to respond, but Vortex’s grip tightened until she gasped in pain. “Iris!”

“Very good.” Vortex released Iris, and walked beyond the light.

Iris listened to his footsteps recede, then the rattling of metal against metal and a wheel squeaking as the sounds drew closer to her once more. She watched the cart and Vortex reappear from the black, and tried to keep her respiration even. She didn’t know what most of the tools and items on the trays were, but they looked decidedly unfriendly. Each item gleamed in the light, shining and meticulously clean, arranged neatly on their respective shelves of the cart.

Vortex picked up a tool at leisure, inspecting it before putting it back and picking up another. Iris knew what he was doing, and wished it wasn’t working, but the longer he was silent, the more afraid and tense she became. Her resolve to stay silent unless forced to speak was quickly crumbling.

Then gone all together. “I don’t know anything.”

“Oh?” Vortex replied, visor flashing a little brighter before dimming back to normal. He picked up another tool, letting the light flare off the silver length of the handle.

“I really don’t.” Iris cycled her vents, forcing her voice to remain as even as she could make it. She was definitely afraid, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how frightened he had her. “I know you’re going to torture me. I know you’re going to hurt me, but I haven’t been given any information the Decepticons could use.”

Vortex hummed, still seemingly paying more attention to the tool in his hand than Iris as he skirted the cart and walked closer to her. “Everyone knows something,” he said.

“Nothing of value. Nothing that would help the Decepticons against the Autobots. Capturing me was utterly pointless. This will be a waste of precious resources.”

Vortex reached out, his fingertips light against Iris’ cheek. “Oh, you poor little thing,” he sighed, the backs of his fingers stroking down her other cheek just as gently. “You’re not considering that the whole point _is_ to torture you.” The tool was held up so Iris could not help but see it. “You’re my new toy, and unfortunately, I’m kind of rough with my playthings. As far as wasting resources?” Another one-shouldered shrug. “This is Earth. It’s energy-rich. Saturated. Bombarded constantly with radiation from the nearby star, and anyone with a little knowledge and a thimbleful of desire can harness and use it.”

Vortex’s thumb moved on the handle and the tool began to emit a slight buzz. Iris couldn’t seem to take her optics off of it, and watched as the tip of the slim rod was slowly moved down to her abdomen. A careless flick of Vortex’s wrist, and she jolted, bouncing against the slab. It hadn’t… _hurt_. Not exactly, but it wasn’t pleasant.

“That’s one of the lower settings,” Vortex said, the buzz growing to a crackle as he wrapped his hand around the end that had shocked Iris. He stroked it, up and down, and Iris clenched her jaw against the thoughts of what he was hinting at. “These lower settings can even be used for pleasure, but I don’t feel like playing like that right now.”

The end whipped out, smacking against the center of Iris’ chest plating, electricity snapping down the seam. She gasped, and Vortex chuckled.

“Do you want to know the best part?” The electric prod crackled more as he traced it down the transformation seam, pulling another hiss of sound from Iris. “No one knows you’re here. _No one_. You’re mine now. Grabbed you off the battlefield, tucked you where no one would find you, then went back when I could slip away.” He pulled the prod back, then tapped it random places all around her chest and middle.

Iris tried to brace, then she tried to relax and just absorb the jolts as they came. It hadn’t hurt, and it still wasn’t intolerable, but it built up until she hissed with each fresh flash of pain.

Vortex stopped, turning away to leave Iris panting for cooling air and not sure at all how long it had gone on. She worked on slowing her respiration, optics on the back of Vortex’s neck as he shuffled items on the tray. They clanked lightly, and she knew this was to draw out the anticipation and ratchet up her fear, not give her a chance to recover.

“Here we are.” Vortex turned back, a small container in his hands. “Do you know what these are?” he asked.

Iris thought they looked like line clamps that medics used to keep a patient from bleeding while they repaired the wound, but she wasn’t about to answer him.

Vortex’s helm tipped a little as he studied her. “So quiet. That’s all right. I’ll get you to scream when I really want you to.” He plucked one of the of the clamps from the container and held it before Iris’ optics. “These go clipped to your lines, sensor web, wires, cables, conduits…” He clipped one on the edge of Iris’ chest plating. “Like this.”

It didn’t hurt at all.

“Now,” Vortex continued. “Just one is no big deal. Even a hundred is nothing if they’re scattered around and imprecisely placed.” Another clamp was taken from the container, this time clipped onto a cable on Iris’ upper arm, exposed by the way she was stretched. “However,” another clamp, and Vortex moved it toward Iris’ elbow and another exposed line, “if placed just… so…”

Iris jerked in her bonds as the clamp was placed, a buzzing pain reverberating between the one at her elbow and the one by her underarm. She hissed, struggling, wanting to shake them off, but they weren’t budging. Vortex watched quietly, visor bright as Iris twisted.

“I see you can feel that.”

Iris tried to wrench aside as another clamp was lifted free, but it was useless. Vortex placed it at the wrist of her other arm, just beneath the cuff that bound her to the table. Another was clipped at her underarm, sending a furious burn along the length of her arm and into the two outermost fingers. Vortex placed another just inside Iris’ collar faring on the right, then left, lacing the fires in her arms together to burn over her chest, up her throat, and down to lick at her spark.

Iris tried to hold back the scream but it tore from her vocalizer no matter her efforts. She heard Vortex chuckle, but then yelped as another clamp, and then another, and another were placed all over her torso until she thought for sure that she would melt. Then he stood back and just watched her writhe.

The clamps were removed one by one. Slowly. Deliberately. The fire banked back to what was almost a welcome buzz again, then the last clamps were taken off.

“There.” Vortex dropped the last one into the container, then placed it back on the tray. “Well, that was fun for me. How are you feeling, little bit?” His voice was back to purring and he reached out to pet Iris’ cheek.

Iris flinched away at first, but once his fingers were closer to her mouth, she aimed a bite. Her teeth clacked together hard, the strike missing, and Vortex laughed.

“Now there’s a little spirit!” Vortex walked back to the far side of his cart, making a show of going over the tools there. “Hm… No. I don’t want to waste time having to repair you, and I do want to draw this out, so that… that… no, not this one.” He lifted and placed aside each thing, the last a small rotary type saw. “Yes. I think this one. It’s a personal favorite.”

Vortex picked up the small prod again and returned. “I only showed you the lower setting anyway. We might as well play with something a little more intense. What do you say?”

“You’re glitched.”

Vortex’s helm tilted to the side. “And?”

The prod buzzed to life, and jammed hard into Iris’ thigh-hip joint. The sudden pain flared bright and hard. It shot down her leg, and up into her belly, making her tank roll even as a sharp, high scream ripped from her vocalizer.

“Yes. I like that. Let’s try… here.” Vortex shoved the prod into a gap at Iris’ knee, his field vibrating with pleasure as he leaned in close, letting her screams wash over his face.

~ | ~

Iris didn’t remember losing consciousness, but when she woke, she woke alone. Her whole body ached, and it only took seeing the prod laid out on the tray in front of her to make her begin shaking.

The sick fragger.

He’d jammed that slagging thing just about everywhere, turning up the setting until even the briefest taps left scorch marks and sent electricity shooting over Iris’ plating and sizzling along her lines until it found its way to ground. Even her back wasn’t spared. At such a high voltage, the table conducted the electricity, leaving her back feeling tender and raw as she moved.

Moving also led to an interesting discovery. One manacle felt looser.

Iris, looked up at it, cursing as she did. If she was being monitored, she just gave herself away. Too late now, she twisted her wrist around, trying to see, and, yes. There it was. The cuff partly open. Not enough to really free her, but maybe if she worked at it, or if Vortex tried to fry her circuitry again, she could get loose, then pry the other one.

Hours passed, day shifting slowly to night, and Iris worked at the cuff until she feared she would scrape an energon line raw and start bleeding. Not wanting Vortex to notice the cuff due to a bloody arm, she stopped. There’d been no discernible progress and it was too dark to see now.

Once again a heavy, deliberate tread announced her captor’s approach. Iris’ spark tripped up in tempo, but she cycled her vents, forcing calm. _It’ll hurt,_ she thought, but he wants to draw this out, so I just have to endure.

Not that enduring was easy, not even with the distraction of masking her attempts at loosening the cuff further, or even beginning to loosen the others with her screams and struggles.

Iris was left hanging limply in her bindings, exhausted, respiration harsh and rasping, when Vortex finally stepped back. He lifted a slim, flat piece of metal from the tray, and held it up, presenting it to Iris as if for inspection.

“Do you know what this is?” Vortex asked. He waited, but Iris stubbornly glared, refusing to take a guess. “No? All right, I’ll tell you- no. Better. I’ll _show_ you.”

Iris’ body clanked loudly against the table as she jumped. “No!”

“Yes. Watch. I said _watch_!” Vortex gripped her helm and forced it forward, face down so she could see the slender strap of metal as it slid along her interface cover. “See?” he asked, voice back to the usual mild tones.

Iris wasn’t sure if she’d actually angered him or not, but the suddenly shouted command had nothing on the fear of what Vortex would do to such sensitive components. She hoped he would take his pleasure of her fast and then go away. She didn’t like the idea, but she’d been braced for the possibility. He was sick and twisted, and Iris believed that rape wouldn’t be much of a stretch for him.

There was a click, and no override Iris could employ would relock her panel. The blade of metal twisted just slightly, and her cover retracted.

Vortex held the tool there, releasing Iris’ helm so he could twist around and pluck something off the table. He held up one of the dreaded clamps. “Don’t want you closing right back up on me. What fun would that be?”

“You’re sick.”

“And depraved. And sadistic.” Vortex added a second clamp, and though it didn’t hurt like when he’d placed them on her lines, it wasn’t comfortable.

Iris scowled, forcing a brave face despite how she shook. He really would have her screaming in pain soon enough, but she would resist while she still could.

“I like you,” Vortex said, lifting the prod. “You’re making this very fun for me and I appreciate that. I love the defiance. In particular, I like breaking it, and we have _plenty_ of time to work on slowly breaking you down.” The prod buzzed once again to life. “It’s just a shame I have to leave at all, but you are my dirty little secret, and I do want to keep it that way. Now,” he said, “I know what you’re expecting, and I would hate to disappoint you.”

The prod was swung down, and Iris’ vents caught, body tensing as she braced for the pain that would lash through her exposed array. Instead, it hummed, tingling lightly.

“Though I might tease you a little. This is the very lowest setting,” Vortex informed her. He drew random circles and swirls and figure eights around Iris’ spike housing and valve rim, his attention on her face.

Iris frowned a little. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t even really feel good.

“No?” Vortex’s thumb nudged the handle, and the vibration intensified a little, but it still wasn’t bothering Iris.

Honestly, were she in a different situation, it might be fun, but there was nothing arousing about Vortex or that tool. The buzz might even become a little irritating eventually, but he was still moving it, so the electricity just grounded out easily through her systems and plating. Of course, he was watching her with a frightening intensity, waiting. It was difficult not to just snap at him, demand to know what he wanted, but that _was_ what he wanted.

Primus, help her, but this was slagged.

“You can’t see it of course, but I’m smirking. Want to know why?” Vortex asked, voice not betraying the alleged smirk.

Iris bit her tongue, and met the red visor squarely. This was going to hurt.

“Ask me why.”

“Why don’t you jam that thing into your own spark.”

Vortex tsked and shook his helm. “How’s this for a predictable bad guy comeback? How about I jam it in yours?”

The prod was pulled away from Iris’ array, electricity crackling as Vortex ramped up the charge, then shoved it, dead center, into the transformation seam of her chest plating. Iris’ back arched right off the table, mouth opening wide in a silent scream. Everything locked up, there was no thought. There was no past or future, just the immediate pain, intense, burning, freezing her into a forever moment with no escape or relief. Iris forgot all about the cuff and trying to wrench it open farther. She couldn’t even scream, let alone process or plot.

Forever ended suddenly, and Iris sagged, vents gasping raggedly for air that would never be cool enough to chase the fiery agony from her lines. Her helm hung low, but she could still see in the periphery as Vortex lifted some new, small tool. She watched, horrified, but still reeling, as he slipped it into her spike housing, down along the side. She gasped as something clicked, and the spike extended, pressurized, but not aroused. She scrambled for some override to retract it, but Vortex slipped a ring over the end and down the length, and with a slight twist and click, it locked into the housing.

The prod was picked up again, and Iris whimpered. “Don’t,” she whispered, knowing it was hopeless.

“What was that?”

“ _Please_ don’t,” Iris corrected.

Vortex purred, body pressing close, but not touching. “Oh. I do love begging.” Electricity snapped in little blue lightning bolts along the shaft of the prod, and Iris couldn’t take her optics off of it. Vortex moved it closer to her spike, but the only place to cringe away was closer to him. “Beg me more.”

Iris could feel the fuzz of energy, and shook hard. “Please don’t. Enough for today. Please.”

“Enough for today?” Vortex shook his helm. “We’ve barely even started.”

Iris tried to prepare herself for the pain as Vortex brought the prod closer, but the shock of it still made her scream when a bolt of electricity jumped from it to the end of her spike. She shrieked, and begged, and even pressed herself _toward_ Vortex, but he was careful not to touch her or the table as he moved the prod around her spike and array. And maybe even worse was how Iris could hear his vents cycling faster and faster. The visor glowed a deep crimson, and even through the nearly blinding pain, she knew that _he_ overloaded from nothing but watching her as she howled and thrashed to escape the agony tearing her apart.

Iris’ vocalizer glitched to static as he thrust the prod into her valve. She could smell the burnt components and ozone. Knew without the damage reports that relays were fried and circuits blown. Disgusted and _furious_ , Iris let herself break. There were no words for her to categorize the level of pain she was in. She would cry now, but later -someday, somehow- she was going to rip his spark out and crush it in her bare hands.

A sharper jab, and Iris cried out, energy rushing her in something more than pain, and Vortex gasped and shouted too. He stumbled back, uncaring at how the prod tore from her valve when he did.

“Frag me…” Vortex leaned against the cart, hand visibly shaking as he looked at it and chuckled. “Damn that last one was _good_.” He looked up at Iris. “For you too, little one, don’t deny it.” The rotor blades were given a shake and resettled, and then he returned with the prod. “Tomorrow, we’re going to have to play with something else, but I’m having fun with this one tonight.”

Iris hated him, and for just an instant that dimmed the torment of the prod, and she narrowed her optics into a glare.

Vortex laughed, and struck out again.

~ | ~

Iris felt like all she did was wake from blackness in to a nightmare over and over. For days it went on, her only count of how much time passed was a rough guestimate based on the dim occurrence of daylight and Vortex’s visits in the dark of night and how often Vortex injected energon directly into her systems. He’d handfed her once, but she’d spit the energon right back out in his face. He’d tutted, rebuking her for trying to die before he was done with her, and simply bypassed her will and filled her tanks manually.

Iris waited for Vortex’s return as night fell, but he didn’t arrive. Cautiously, fearful still of discovery, and that this might just be some new mind game, she began tugging at the loose cuff. Iris was sure she could get her hand out if she really pulled, and didn’t even care if it scraped or hurt. What she feared was Vortex showing up and being unable to get her and back through it.

For hours, Iris barely dared to breathe, expecting him to jump out of the shadows at any moment, or for that damnable light to suddenly beam down on her, but nothing happened.

Deciding she needed to risk it, Iris pulled, twisting her hand, trying to make it as small as possible to fit, and it finally popped free. She cried out as her arm dropped, shoulder blazing with pain as strained gears suddenly moved. For long, terrifying minutes, she couldn’t even get her arm to move, though she could feel her fingers curling against the outside of her thigh.

Slowly, feeling and control returned as energon began to circulate properly once more. It took effort, but Iris was finally able to reach up to the other cuff. She kept her audials tuned for the least little sound, and felt over the metal that bound her wrist.

There. There was the locking seam. She twisted her wrist, trying to force it open even a little. She knew from seeing the other one that they were incredibly simplistic in design, just a band of circular metal. The width was actually helpful, as it meant it didn’t bite between forearm and hand plating. And while Earth might be the realm of plentiful energon, they didn’t have the alloys Cybertron did, plus Vortex had probably had to build it for himself. The comparatively thin locking slide could be forced loose with enough strength. Strength that Iris had in the throes of agony.

Iris dug her fingers between the cuff and her wrist by the seam and jerked at it. She paused, respiration held and listening, then thrashed, yanked, and pried at it, only to pause to listen again.

Half a dozen cycles of struggling and listening, and Iris was finally rewarded with a click and a scrape of metal on metal. She froze, trying to calm the panting of her vents, so she could listen. Had that click _only_ been the cuff?

She remained still for as long as she could bear, then shifted her grip, fingers curling into the newly created gap for better leverage. One hard yank, and the locking teeth _click-click-click_ ed as the cuff was forced open.

Iris bit her lip to keep from cheering, and forced herself to hold still and listen. Hearing nothing, she pulled her wrist free and quietly waited until it was functioning properly again.

The table was kept upright, nearly a full ninety degrees, and that made it difficult. She couldn’t risk just falling forward. At the very least, she would break her legs at the ankle joints, but as she didn’t know how well the table was secured to the floor, the whole heavy thing could topple and crush her. Neither of those events would aid her escape.

Arms spread, the edges of the table grasped for balance, Iris cycled her respiration, trying not to let the very real chance of freedom make her careless. She crouched, back sliding down the table. A soft hiss of discomfort escaped as the cuffs at her ankles pressed against the lower edge of her shin guards, but with another cycle of her vents, Iris sank into a full crouch. She kept her weight shifted back against the surface, and carefully reached down to the first ankle cuff.

That was when she sensed that she wasn’t alone. There was no sound, just the sudden _awareness_ that shocked fear through her spark.

Keeping still, Iris tried to pinpoint the presence, but terror and despair were clawing at her gut. She was so close. _So close_. Though it would be just like Vortex to ‘spice things up’ by teasing her with freedom.

“Iris,” a whisper called from above her.

Iris refused to look up.

Though the sounds were well over where Vortex’s helm would be, Iris wasn’t going to play his game until forced to. There was a soft scrape and quiet rustling, and then close to the floor, just a few paces in front of Iris, blue optics hovered.

“Hey. It’s Bumblebee,” the voice whispered.

Iris stared, shaking and stunned. They had come for her?

“Backup’s on the way,” Bumblebee continued. “I’m not reading anyone but you here, but they’re coming. Just in case. Looks like you’re doing good here, but if it’s ok, I’ll help.” He paused. “If that’s ok, then put your hands on my shoulders.”

It took Iris a moment to unlock her joints, but she slowly reached out one hand, then the other, finding Bumblebee’s shoulders in relation to his optics. _Blue_ , friendly optics.

“You came.”

“Of course. And sorry in advance if this hurts.”

Something was slid between Iris’ leg and the cuff, then Bumblebee’s body jerked under her hands. The cuff breaking free sounded impossibly loud, and Iris gasped as her leg fell deeper into it.

“Almost there,” Bumblebee said. “Go ahead and lean on me so you can lift your foot out. I can take your weight.”

Iris obeyed, leg wobbling badly and foot buzzing painfully as she set it on floor. Bumblebee freed her other leg, and then helped brace her up so they could get out of the building.

“Vortex,” Iris whispered as they slipped out the door and from under a large tarp that hung over it, and into the starlit, _free_ night air.

“You’re safe now.” Bumblebee looked up. “Skyfire’s coming with Ratchet. You’re safe now, ok?”

Iris nodded, but the stars were wheeling overhead, and she gave into the black swelling up over her head, her last thought the hope that Bumblebee wouldn’t let her hit the ground too hard.

~ | ~

“Hey, Iris,” Bumblebee called out as he approached.

Iris turned, trying not to show that he had startled her. It’d been a few weeks, and Ratchet had done a great job of repairing her physically, but anyone approaching still made her feel tense and on guard.

“Can I sit?”

“Yes.”

Bumblebee settled on the ground beside Iris at a considerate distance.

“I never had the chance to thank you,” Iris said, looking over at the mech. “So… Thank you.”

“Hey, you were half out of there yourself, and it took Vortex until this morning to come back. You’d have been out of there either way.”

“But you came,” Iris insisted.

“We all did.” Bumblebee shrugged. “All spec ops, all trackers and scouts. Once Optimus got it out of Megatron that he wasn’t holding you, we started turning over rocks for clues to where you could have been taken. It was just luck that I found Vortex’s trail and got to you first.”

Iris nodded, and gave Bumblebee a smile. “Still. Thank you.”


End file.
